


a place to rest your head

by oryx



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series)
Genre: Faint Green/Red Hints, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-15
Updated: 2013-01-15
Packaged: 2017-11-25 16:22:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/640781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oryx/pseuds/oryx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Telling stories at the top of the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a place to rest your head

**Author's Note:**

> an old fic that i discovered on my harddrive & thought "oh, this is actually kinda cute" uwu

On the day the bells of the Tin Tower start to ring, after nearly being trampled by a fanatical man in a purple suit and flowing cape, Bruno decides that it is high time to find a new meditation spot.

 

On the back of his rented Pidgeot, he returns to the Plateau to examine a map of Kanto and Johto and lay out his options.

 

Viridian Forest? No, no, he’s not overly fond of bugs (or Bug Catchers, for that matter). Mount Moon? Too many Zubat and inexperienced trainers stumbling around in the dark. Lavender Town as a whole has a dingy, depressing aura that doesn’t lend itself to proper meditation. The Safari Zone holds the threat of being kicked in the head by angry Kangaskhan, while the Seafoam Islands are a venerable maze (and to be honest, he’s never had a good sense of direction), and the recent amount of toxic fumes in the Pokemon Mansion has made it too dangerous to even consider.

 

Frowning, Bruno turns his eyes to the left half of the map. Tohjoh Falls? No, no, too cliché. Sprout Tower? The very idea of that constant swaying is enough to make him grimace. Ilex Forest? He would say yes, but after that run-in with Whitney he doesn’t feel safe anywhere in the vicinity of Goldenrod. The Ruins of Alph were recently opened to tourists, destroying the tranquility that once prevailed over the place, and the Slowpoke Well just isn’t remote enough. Perhaps the Olivine Lighthouse or some secluded beach near Cianwood? No, he thinks tiredly. If he happens to run into Jasmine she’ll follow him around like a lost puppy, and Chuck often frequents Cianwood’s beaches for training of his own. (Bruno likes Chuck, really he does, but the man gets so… _worked up_ about things. It’s a little off-putting.)

 

Bruno sighs quietly and folds the map back up again.

 

There’s only one option left.

 

\--

 

\--

 

Ever since he can remember, he hasn’t been bothered by the cold. Pain and discomfort are all in the mind, you see, just messages our body sends us. Learn to ignore these messages, to heighten one’s thoughts to a sublime level, and things like a burnt hand, a subzero climate, even a jagged stab wound become nothing more than minor annoyances.

 

As a very young child, Bruno’s father would take him along on his spiritual voyages, trekking across swamps and deserts and snow-shrouded wastelands with nothing but the clothes on their backs.

 

“Be one with the earth and the air, my son,” his father would say, “and you will never need anything else. Open your eyes to the world around you, and let it bolster you up to impossible heights.”

 

These are the words that echo through Bruno’s mind as he scales Mount Silver. The icy path twists and turns beneath his bare feet, and hard-packed snow crunches with every step. To his right there is the cliffside, dark and looming. To his left is open air, the twinkling lights of Pewter city faint and muted down below. And above… Above him is nothing but white, endless and all-consuming.

 

After what may have been ten minutes, or an hour, or even a day (because time passes oddly in this place), Bruno reaches the summit of Mount Silver. The air is thin here, and bitterly cold, and any other person would find it difficult to breathe. (But Bruno is not “any other person”.)

 

This will be a fine place for meditation, he thinks. Not a soul in sight, Pokemon or human, and the only sound is the muffled roar of the wind that whips the snow into a frenzy. Smiling contentedly, Bruno settles down into the lotus position, allowing his mind to go blank and quiet, devoid of all thought –

 

And then he sees a flickering light in the distance.

 

He squints, rubbing at his eyes just to make sure he hasn’t imagined it. But no, there it is again – a wavering orange glow against the snow, like that of a fire…

 

Someone else is up here, Bruno thinks, utterly astounded. Perhaps someone had the same idea as him, using the mountain as a place of enlightenment? Perhaps a foolhardy hiker had taken on a challenge far beyond their comprehension, and was now stuck at the summit with no hope of return? _Either way_ , he supposes, _I had better see who it is. They might be in need of assistance._

 

He approaches the cave warily and peers inside, only to find…

 

“Red?”

 

The dark-haired boy glances up, seemingly unsurprised. “Oh. Hello, Bruno.”

 

\--

 

\--

 

“So this is where you’ve been all this time, huh?”

 

Red nods mutely and adds a few pieces of kindling to the fire. His Pikachu is sound asleep in his lap, its paws curled into the fabric of his threadbare t-shirt.

 

“The League was in a bit of an uproar when you disappeared, you know,” Bruno says. He’s sitting at an awkward position, being a little too large for Red’s tiny hole-in-the-wall living space. “There was a search party and everything. They thought you’d been kidnapped by Team Rocket, or worse.”

 

“… What did you think?”

 

Bruno smiles gently. In the faded light of the fire, the runaway Champion looks far younger than he really is. “I had a feeling you left of your own volition. And it seems I was right.”

 

Red says nothing – simply wraps his jacket closer around his shoulders and shivers (an imperceptible movement, to any other person).

 

“You know,” Bruno muses, “when I was younger, my grandfather told me a story. It was about a boy who fell in love with a beautiful girl. But the girl was the daughter of a rich, powerful lord, and she had many handsome suitors to choose from. So she told the boy, ‘If you wish to marry me, you must train hard and become the strongest man in the world. Only then will I know your commitment to me is true.’ The boy was so desperately in love with the girl that he agreed, and left to train in the wilderness.

 

“He battled the elements, and warred against Mother Nature, and fought both people and Pokemon alike, until the day came that he was renowned across the land as the strongest. He could lift boulders with one hand and uproot a great oak with the other. He could stop a herd of stampeding Tauros, grab a wild Rhydon by the horn, even move a sleeping Snorlax. After years of training, he was finally the strongest man in the world. And so he returned to the beautiful girl, who had waited for him after hearing tales of his exploits. He saw her in the distance, waving to him, and stopped at the side of the road to pick a flower for her. But the flower was crushed beneath his powerful fingers. And when he took the hand of his beloved, she cried out in pain and fear and fled from him, never to return.”

 

Bruno pauses and glances over at Red, whose eyes are lowered, hidden beneath his cap. The slump of his shoulders says that he understands the moral of the tale all too well.

 

“After the story was done, my grandfather told me, ‘Bruno, we must learn to correct our weaknesses and work towards what we want. Only then can we lead meaningful, fulfilling lives. But you must never forget that strength in of itself can also be a weakness.’”

 

The cave is silent for a long moment.

 

And then, finally, Red speaks.

 

“I want to go home,” he whispers. “But I can’t. Not yet.”

 

Bruno nods sagely. “I understand. Remember, though, that no matter how long it may take, there will always be someone waiting for you at the foot of this mountain.”

 

He reaches over and claps the boy on the back, nearly knocking the breath out of him.

 

“Ow,” Red mutters, and Bruno knows that in the end, everything will work out for the best.

 

\--

 

\--

 

Once Red falls asleep, arms folded and chin against his chest, Bruno picks him up cautiously and begins the slow descent down Mount Silver. Pikachu wakes briefly, teeth bared and ready to attack, but relaxes as soon as he sees Bruno’s face.

 

“I’m helping him,” the man says, and Pikachu gives him a long, semi-suspicious look before leaping up onto his shoulder. The electric Pokemon knows that his master won’t last much longer unaided – he’s light as a feather in Bruno’s arms, all skin and bones and frostbitten fingers. If Red is to survive at the top of the mountain, he’ll need more than a pack full of food and a light jacket.

 

Eventually the snow and sleet gives way to jagged rock, which in turn gives way to a forest of evergreens. The trees are ancient, towering overhead and blocking out the sky, and soft, dead pine needles stifle his every footfall. In time, the forest begins to grow sparser, and Pikachu strains toward the outline of buildings in the distance.

 

“Almost there,” Bruno whispers. “Don’t worry, Pikachu.”

 

In response, the yellow mouse sinks its claws into Bruno’s shoulder. How can he not worry, with his master in such a state? And how can he not worry, when he knows who Bruno is leading them towards?

 

\--

 

\--

 

Green yawns and rubs his eyes tiredly as he opens the door.

 

“Bruno?” he mutters, squinting at the face of his visitor. “What the hell’re you doing here? Do you know what time it is? It’s like five in the goddamn morning and…” His voice trails off as he notices first the Pikachu on Bruno’s shoulder, and then the unconscious boy in his arms. His eyes widen.

 

“Oh god,” he breathes. “Red… I… Where did you…”

 

“We can worry about that later, I think,” Bruno says coaxingly. “Can I come in?”

 

“Ah, um… Yes, yes, of course. Please do.” His gaze never strays from Red’s pale face.

 

Green leads Bruno through the darkened gym – down a hallway, up a staircase, and through a door with chipped blue paint. It’s sparse and a little lonely in Green’s apartment. The television sits on top of an empty orange crate, the windows are covered with old bedsheets instead of curtains, and the walls are white and bare. Bruno lays Red out on the sofa, then turns to the still-shocked Gym Leader.

 

“He’s been at the top of Mount Silver all along,” Bruno says. “He seems to be suffering from malnourishment and possibly mild hypothermia, so I couldn’t just leave him there.”

 

“Mount Silver…” Green is pacing back and forth, shaking his head. “The one place we didn’t search… Of course.” He laughs bitterly, looking as if he might break down at any moment.

 

Bruno reaches out and grabs him by the shoulder. “Listen, Green. Red needs your help. You have to get through this, for his sake.”

 

The brown-haired boy stares at him, jaw clenched, his eyes melancholy and resigned. “He’s going to leave again, isn’t he?” he asks quietly. “He’ll get better, and then he’ll go right back up to the top of that stupid mountain.”

 

Bruno nods. “Yes, he will. He has his reasons. But Green… Eventually he will come down for good. What’s important is that you’re there for him when he does.” At this, he smiles. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have quite a bit of meditation to do.”

 

He turns to walks away, but pauses at the door. He glances back to see Green kneeling by Red’s side, holding the boy’s hand like he’s afraid to let go, and Pikachu curled around his master’s shoulder.

 

_Yes_ , Bruno thinks. _Everything will work out just fine._

 

\--

 

\--

 

In the end, he decides to meditate in the Dragon’s Den.

 

(Because if Red can withstand freezing temperatures, complete social withdrawal, and a severe lack of food supplies, he can withstand a few withering glares from a perpetually angry Clair.)


End file.
